Teardrops from heaven are cleansing the earth. Sadness of the gods reflecting my own. The same sadness, which had fueled my heart time and time again, had filled my room yet once more. I released my self from the clinch of my pillow, stood, and allowed my feet to take me towards my door. As I opened the wooden portal, the loneliness of the world caressed my soul like never before, challenging all the hopes for us which I had kept in store.
Cold air brushing against my cheeks, whispering all the longing forgotten lovers all speak and sending flashes of you minus the deceit. I stood there for a second or two, making myself believe that I've heard your voice, in the gusts of wind, slicing through. I shook my head to interrupt my retrospect knowing that I have fooled my self already and to reminisce would clearly not help me.
I moved forward two, three steps more, enjoying icy pins pricking my skin, watching the world getting soaked in heavenly tears. I worked my way back into my room, got hold of my towel and dried my self. I forced my body back to bed but the sight continued to linger in my head.
Though men with their eyes mock me everyday, the angels sympathized in the sweetest way. Closed my eyes, tried to go back to sleep, hoping that when I wake up, the winds would no longer speak.
I woke up this morning realizing it's a new day, seeing sunlight trespassing into my room colliding with the remaining darkness of my cold recluse. This will be a long day, i thought to my self. As any other day, this will be a slow movie showcasing a routine of bullshit, a panorama of faked smiles, heartless laughs, and a whole lot of blank stares. And so I made the usual movements that would take me through this day. Hoping for a change your memory would not barge into my head.
Everything in the past few months was a blur. A hazy fantasy offered by the inviting beauty of the moon. Now that I am awake, and the sun is at its zenith, you will just be obliviously evanescent in the most secluded corners of my beating heart. A fading picture of my past recklessness and an envisioned blueprint of my grave.
And there I was out into the world of men, toe-to-toe with whatever that stood in front of me, facing every second after another, clinging to whatever that is left vital for my survival, holding on to the thought that this day will soon come to its end.
Finally the sun is calling it a day, sinking into the horizon, leaving fiery streaks of gold on its wake. Kissing the clear skies goodbye. Bidding farewell to the world and my lonely and troubled heart.
There goes another sunset. I've been counting them these days. How many are still left? Will I be able to keep track or eventually lose the count? Was that my last sunset or am I fated to see the next? But knowing that you're still out there, I guess it's still worth the wait.
